She nodded. “I was actually house-hunting. Looking at places around East London.” She held up her hands. “But, I swear, if that’s too weird for you, let me know! It’s just, I really like the area when I visit. And I don’t want to stay in Surrey cuz I will kill myself. Being in London makes Bridget’s car pickup less weird, and it will be easier to maybe train for something, get a job, become a proper person, you know? But I’ll totally understand if you feel like I’m single white female-ing you.”

My voice came out shrill, giving my shock away. “Oh my God, you’re moving to East London?”

“Only maybe. As I said, I don’t want to freak you out. I just love the park, and the canals, and the village vibe. And all your mates were so lovely at that dinner party.”

“Wow, that’s...great.” My eyebrows jumped into my hairline and I had to concentrate on lowering them again.

“Really?” Jessica could read me better than anyone. “I chatted to Ben about it just now, and he said you’d be fine with it, but I thought it was worth checking.”

Oh God. Jessica, within walking distance of Ben. Why did that make me want to projectile vomit? What was wrong with me? My head started screaming, “No, get away, my life my life!”

“...I mean, we had so much fun living around the corner from each other when we were younger.” I could tell her mind was made up, and asking my permission was perfunctory. Not that she needed my permission anyway. As my shock settled, I let her words bed in. I mean, she was right. Our teen years had been quite something. We were like roommates who didn’t share a house. Upon waking, the first thing I’d do was message Jessica so we could meet instantly. We’d walk to college together, home together. We’d stay out late during school holidays, high on drugs and the thrill of being young and seeing the sunrise, hugging as we said goodbye as if we were about to be separated for years, rather than hours. Weaning myself off her had been like coming off heroin. Life seemed dull and meaningless, an emptiness gnawing at my stomach. Everyone else was boring. A limb had been amputated. I’d practically shake under my university duvet with cold-turkey convulsions as I resisted the urge to text her, to forgive her, to have her back. A beautiful addiction I’d managed to quench, who now wanted to live around the corner again. But remember why you needed to cut her out, I thought. Can you trust her to be so close again? To be so close to Ben? Especially when Ben may be losing interest in you...

“We did have fun...”